


A Lesson in the Art of English

by EndlessEarlGrey



Series: Overwatch Writing Prompts [5]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, F/M, Gender-neutral Reader, M/M, Public Display of Affection, Public Hand Jobs, Reader-Insert, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-06-20
Packaged: 2018-11-16 15:56:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11256192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EndlessEarlGrey/pseuds/EndlessEarlGrey
Summary: Filling prompt: "Aghck! I have a mighty need for Jack Morrison college professor stuff! Preferably student teacher romance."---Professor Jack Morrison takes his teaching obligation very seriously. He's sure to answer any question you may have and does his best to fulfill your every need...Every single need.





	A Lesson in the Art of English

As Professor Morrison was wrapping up his lecture for the day, the class was already getting restless, shuffling books and packing bags. His voice grew louder to accommodate the noise, trying to get his last few sentences out.

“-next class we’ll be discussing chapter 4 and 5, so make sure you get those readings done!” When he said nothing more, the class erupted with activity, as if someone pressed the unmute button. You were talking to your friend while she packed her belongings about your plans for the weekend, hand supporting your chin as you look up at her. It was when she said her goodbyes, that you glanced down the rows to see if Professor Morrison was occupied with students. There were always students asking questions about the lecture, or the few who wanted to ask for his advice about their assignments and papers. Your gaze skipped the line of students to study his face as he spoke, brows slightly furrowed with concentration while listening to them. Your eyes trailed down, admiring the way his dress shirt stretched over his broad chest, always seeming to be the perfect balance between professional and attractiveness. Those pants too, God, don’t get you started on what they did to his ass.

There was always a fantasized notion of what college was, in which social media had implanted into naive students. The idea where there was a hot professor that everyone talked about and fought to be in their class. You would shamefully admit going into your first semester, you eagerly popped into the first day of your classes with high hopes. But after witnessing a late 50’s man trying to reach the top of the white board, exposing his beer belly to the class, you could safely say all expectations were destroyed. You remembered clearly the first day you entered English in the second semester, barely looking at the professor until he greeted you, and you had to remember not to look like an idiot with your mouth wide open.  He was by far one of the youngest professors you had, guessing around his middle thirties. Blonde hair, gentle blue eyes, and a smile that could start a war. You weren’t the only one who found him attractive, since pretty much everyone else had the same infatuated look on their face when they first saw him.

You waited patently, one by one the line of students grew shorter ,until there was only one left. That was when you packed your bag and slowly made your way down to the front of the class. He saw you as you stepped behind the student, making eye contact before flicking his attention back to the student. “Thank you Professor Morrison, I guess I’ll try to look at it in that perspective,” the student said, turning to leave.

“No problem, Mike, just open your mind a little and see how things are from the other side.” He raised a hand as a goodbye, watching him go halfway up the lecture hall before looking down at you with a glint in his eyes.

“Well, how can I help you?” You caught that slight teasing tone underneath his words, his arms crossing as he leaned against his desk. You shot a smirk back, purposely rolling your eyes.

“Oh I don’t know Professor, just a student looking for answers.” His mouth twitched, fighting hard against a smile. He hummed in question, turning around and walked to the other side, gathering his notes.

“And what questions do you have?” You took over his spot, hopping up to sit on the desk as he packed his bag.

“Oh you know, why’s the ocean blue? Why does a dog always know when you start eating? What’s the meaning to life? Those important questions.” You swung your legs back and forth, staring at the empty lecture hall. It should be empty for the next ten minutes before the next class starts to fill in. You caught the slight chuckle behind you, accompanied by the rustling of paper and the zipping of his bag.

“You do remember I am an English professor, not a Science or Philosophy professor.”

“Well in a way, an English professor can touch upon all topics, including science and philosophy. Depends on what you read right? And being such an accomplished and well-liked professor…” You dragged out, fully grinning, as you imagined the exasperated look he must have on his face. Instead of a sigh you were waiting for, a firm hand placed itself on your lower back, making you straighten up with a jolt. A warm breath blew across your ear, sending the fine hairs on the back of your neck standing as a delicious, rumbling voice whispered into your ear.

“Mmm a well-liked professor huh? And who would like little old me.” Your hands clenched the edge of the desk, the tone he was using was strictly used in your private moments alone away for the college. His hand dragged down your spine, leaving a trail of fire before settling on your hip. Morrison walked in front of you, his face close enough that you could count the sun kissed freckles on his cheeks. He placed his other hand beside you on the table, trapping you in between his arms as he leaned even closer. You gulped, noticing his attention was focused on following his hand as it moved from your hip to finger the top of your pants. You could tell by the way your face seemed too hot to touch that you were blushing fiercely, squirming as his fingers teasingly dipped inside and ran gently along the edge of your underwear. The fact that he was doing this in a lecture hall- _at school_ \- where anyone could come in anytime; it caused a faint alarm to sound in the back of your mind, urging you to stop him in case someone caught the two of you. But holy shit, this was hot as fuck. You couldn’t help but whimper as his fingers drifted lower, sliding along hot skin, towards the place where you wanted it the most.

He glanced up from underneath his eyelashes, his teeth nipping his bottom lip as he smiled at you, watching your reaction. “Jack…” You gasped out, short of breath as his fingers stopped just inches away.

“Hm?” His index finger drawing circles, sparks of pleasure burned through your body. You were barely able to break eye contact with his dilated eyes, peeking over his shoulder at the lecture hall door.  Your glance only made him grin even wider, reading your face like an open book.

“Worried someone will come in?” His finger stopped drawing circles, stilling to just a constant, aggravating pressure a few inches away. For a second, you thought he was going to kiss you on the lips as he leaned forward; but he dipped past your face to place gentle nips along your neck, trailing up until he reached your ear. “Worried they’ll see how inappropriate this all is?” His voice hoarse and deep, causing you to visibly shiver.

“Jack…” You licked your dry lips, taking in small sips air because that was all you could do at the moment. How was your mouth so dry when the rest of you was sweating? It didn’t help that Jack’s body usually felt like a furnace at any given time. “Please…”

He nipped your earlobe, running a lick along the shell of your ear before relinquishing it and whispered,  “Since you asked so nicely.” His hand slipped down those ached for inches and your eyes rolled back, your body straightening and tensing as if electricity ran through your body. A louder than wanted moan slipped from your lips, echoing in the empty lecture hall as your hands gripped onto his shoulders, digging your nails into the firm muscles. Morrison moved his head back so he could watch you, taking in every flutter of eyelids, memorizing your face as you scrunched your brow tightly with pleasure, mouth open in a silent cry. He always knew how to get you going, to drive you straight towards the edge with no hesitation. He kissed you then, tongue running along yours, mapping your familiar mouth. You tried to respond the best you could, arching your chest so it brushed against his. His touch was addicting, his taste was like a drug that you couldn’t get enough of. The added grind against his body made a satisfying groan erupt from his throat as he broke the kiss. Your body started shaking, a tell tale sign you were rapidly hurling towards the end.

“Please!” You all but shouted, barely opening your eyes to look at the man who was panting himself, his dark eyes fixated on your face.

“Please what? Come on you can say it, I’m listening,” He puffed out. You shook your head, eyes closing again, unable to stutter the words out as you were right at the edge of the precipice; just the tiniest bit more and–

He suddenly stopped, whipping his hand out of your pants as if he got burned. Your body was still throbbing, pulsing with arousal, but when he stopped touching you, your body deflated like a balloon. Soreness ran through your limbs as your body relaxed from minutes of consistent tension. You hadn’t noticed a quiet beeping alarm until your breathing slowed and you opened your eyes. Jack stood in front of you, smugness colouring his face. He brought his hand in front of your eyes, waiting for you to notice the wetness on his fingertips, before he bringing them to his mouth, his tongue swiping over them. You whimpered at the sight, another pulse of heat shot down to your pelvis. He reached down to his groin, adjusting himself through his pants, before he cleared his throat. It was nice to know you weren’t the only one enjoying yourself. He discreetly wiped his hand on his pants before turning the alarm off on his watch.

“I think we should bring our discussion to my office. From what your questions were, I feel like it’ll take longer than the time we have here,” he said loudly. However, something in his tone made you sit up from your slouched position. He was using his teaching voice, the strong, confident and enunciated tone you heard every other day. He scanned down your body once from bottom to top, before making sure you were looking at him. His eyes darted to the side quickly before returning to your confused gaze, one of his eyebrows arching up. It was only then that you heard footsteps coming; a slow but steady noise of someone going down some stairs. Your eyes widened comically, immediately jumping down from the desk to stand in front of Jack, his tall frame shielding you from view. It was that tall frame that initially blocked out your line of sight to the door at the top of the lecture hall, making you miss the fact that someone had entered the room. Heat bloomed on your cheeks, almost unable to believe you were so close to being caught. You ran your hands down your clothes, smoothing any wrinkles and fixing anything undone. He turned around, his heated expression replaced with an easy- going smile, as he greeted the person coming down the stairs. Conveniently, he held his bag in front of him, cleverly hiding any evidence of what transpired only moments ago.

“Ah Professor Amari, sorry we’ve lingered so long. There was quite a few students asking questions today and I’m afraid my long winded answers delayed me from getting through the questions faster.”

The woman waved her hand nonchalantly, smiling back at him. “Oh don’t worry about it, I know how some students are. No harm done!” She seemed to notice you as she came closer and smiled politely. “Professor Morrison must have done a bad job today if there were so many students lining up for questions right?” She joked, which you gaped at her in shock, eyes bouncing between her teasing gaze and Morrison’s amused one.

“N-no! He didn’t– I mean Professor Morrison is a great lecturer. Today’s lecture was very interesting! I think that’s why there were more questions than usual.”

“You see Professor Amari? I did a great job. You should have some more confidence in me, you wound me so with your doubt.” He clutched over his heart, an exaggerated hurt expression on his face. That only set the woman off with laughter.

“Right right, you can’t do anything wrong in your students’ eyes can you Jack?”

Jack winked at her before turning back to glance at you. “Well as much as I enjoy our little chit chats before your class, we’ve probably taken up enough of your preparation time. We’ll just get out of your hair and back to my office.” He started walking, waving a small two fingered salute at Professor Amari as a goodbye. You mumbled a quick goodbye yourself before catching up with him up the stairs, joining him at his side. He didn’t look down at you, only forward as he opened the door for you to step through. The loud noise of college life hit you with a sudden wave, reality slapping you across the face.

“That was too close Jack,” you murmured so only he could hear you.  Your eyes scanning around to see if anyone was staring, as if they knew what happened in the lecture hall. But nobody seemed to even glance at the pair of you as you both walked through the building.

“Well that’s why I had an alarm,” he replied simply, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. You shook your head in disbelief, frowning slightly as you shot him an annoyed look. His only response was to chuckle. He leaned over slightly, dipping his head lower so his voice wouldn’t carry. “Besides, you can’t deny you were enjoying every second. It was a major turn on, and even if you won’t admit it, your body can’t lie.” He licked his lips for show, before shooting you a wolfish grin. A tingle went down your spine as your hands tightened around your backpack straps. Sniffing indignantly, you looked off to the side as if that would stop him from seeing your burning face.

“Right, so I guess I’ll see you later.” You made the motion to break off from the stroll, when a warm hand pressed to the small of your back, steering to forward again. You peered up in alarm at Jack’s face and swallowed at his expression.

“I believe we had an unfinished discussion to be had in my office. Or did you forget?” Again he used that low, sultry tone; his baby blues capturing your attention again. He had an uncanny ability to make every English word fly from your brain even though you were majoring in English.  Unable to get a verbal response out, you only nodded as you walked beside him, noticing after a few minutes that he hadn’t moved his hand away.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh well would you look at that, my first ever mature writing. Of course it would be this prompt, which could have went a totally different, very PG, fluffy way. But LOOK AT WHAT FANFICTION IN GENERAL HAS DONE TO MY BRAIN. Seriously, I hope that was okay.
> 
> If you guys want more of that horrible mess or if you have more prompts let me know here in the comments or on my Tumblr [ Endlessearlgrey](http://endlessearlgrey.tumblr.com). Any feedback/kudos lets me know that I didn't ruin your faith in humanity.


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